


Time After Time

by ItsGatsbyNotGatz



Category: Black Mirror (TV), Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Drug Use, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Instability, Multiple Timelines, Murder, Period-Typical Homophobia, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-18 15:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17583620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsGatsbyNotGatz/pseuds/ItsGatsbyNotGatz
Summary: No matter what, Colin always leaves. He's always gone, and Stefan can't remember how to stop him going. His indecisive heart will surely be the end of him, he thinks, because if he can't stop Colin leaving, how in the hell is he ever going to tell him how much he loves him?





	1. (Don't You) Forget About Me

**Author's Note:**

> so uh,,,,, im kind of obsessed with Bandersnatch which would be fine except I'm reaching a pretty hefty seven on the Ritman scale of conspiracy belief

Of all the places Stefan Butler thought he’d be at 19, he never thought he’d find himself on The Actual Colin Ritman’s couch. He never thought he’d be listening to Colin frantically explain an outrageous conspiracy theory while colors swirled about his fingers and he melted into the couch.The couch smelled like smoke and Colin, but he couldn’t decide if that last bit was the couch or just the scent of Colin’s shampoo coming from where his head was on Stefan’s lap.

“-and they’re watching you, Stefan, got it? Every second, of every minute, of every day. There’s no escaping it. Are you listening, Stefan?” Colin’s voice was far away. It echoed around Stefan’s head with every word, rattling around his skull and clattering his teeth. He found himself gazing down into Colin’s eyes. He didn’t feel himself nod, but he must have, and suddenly Colin’s eyes were swirling around and had his hair always been so loud? 

And then Colin was up, the warm weight of his thoughts gone from Stefan’s lap as he paced about the room, monologuing- to himself or to the people dancing across the magazine covers or to his reflection, Stefan wasn’t sure- about the code of the world as he watched himself in the glass of the balcony doors. Stefan didn’t remember getting up to follow him, but suddenly Colin had both hands on his face and his glasses were off and pressing into Stefan’s face. His eyes were dripping from their sockets, and a question hung in the air. He wasn’t sure what Colin was offering. He steading himself with one of his own hands on Colin as he nodded; he’d gladly agree to anything Colin wanted him to. It seemed an acceptable answer, because then the hands were gone and he was following Colin onto the balcony. His eyes were firmly in his sockets, eyebrows raised like always, and he was speaking, or was he? And then, oh god-

“One of us is going over. Down there.” And suddenly Colin’s voice doesn’t have the same spellbinding, heart snatching effect it usually does, and the wind is whipping Stefan back to sobriety. He looks- it’s so far. He’s not sure why he produces the imagine, but he can almost feel the shatter of his spine and see Colin’s blood spread below them, or is it his? Or both of them? Or maybe neither, but why-

“You- you’ll die.” Colin shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, and _god,_ that voice, that voice that threatens to send Stefan over the edge all because he doesn’t want to watch Colin do it, why can’t Stefan focus himself, how’d he get here anyway? God, how is he meant to pick between them when either option threatens to crush Stefan entirely?

“You’ve seen PAC-Man die hundreds of times. Doesn’t bother him. Doesn’t bother me either. So. Which of us is it gonna be?” No. _No,_ Stefan wants to scream. _Neither of us, neither of us, are you mad? Colin, you can’t-_

But he doesn’t. And Colin is waiting. And Stefan tries to form the scream that’s caught in his throat. But he can’t. When he could he ever?

“Y- You-“ The nod forces its way out. Where’s the rest of it? Where’s the bit where he says ‘you can’t, Colin’? Or even ‘You can’t leave me, Colin’? Or ‘You’re so beautiful here, Colin’? Or anything, anything other than the horrifying fact that nothing makes its way past the tears crammed into Stefan’s throat and Colin gives him an almost sad sort of look, like he expected nothing more but is all the same hurt.

“Alright. Fair enough.” And then his leg is over the balcony, and there’s the other, and those tears threaten to drown him, but he’s trying to choke anything out. Anything to bring Colin safely back onto the couch with his head in his lap. Anything to bring him back inside, blowing smoke into Stefan’s face with every word while Stefan faintly wonders if he tastes like he smells, or if he somehow tastes like coding and mindless thoughts and the clicking of keys. “See you around.”

The scream catches behind Stefan’s eyes as Colin falls. He reaches, reaches for something he longs for even if he can’t name it. He’s too late, too far, too gone, too-

Too dead.

The snap of Colin’s coat is swallowed alive by the cold thud of his body, only inches from Stefan moments ago and now stained red with the indecisive choke of Stefan’s heart. The sight of Colin on the ground below sends a shock that he hadn’t expected. It’s horrific, what he’s done to Colin, but he knows if he were next to him he would only see Colin’s serene face and knowing smirk through the glass of his eyes and the cracks of his glasses. He knows he would try his hardest to keep the blood from reaching him, but even from the balcony, Stefan feels it staining his skin.

He tries to convince himself he is still high, because there’s no way Colin is dead. It’s the LSD stinging his head, less of a bad trip and more of a several story fall. Surely, his hands are not as red as he thinks they are. He can’t bring himself off the balcony, and it feels like ages as he tries to convince his growingly sick stomach that he should follow Colin right off the edge, if for no other reason than to check to see if the fall would really kill a man.

But no.

No, Kitty’s scream tells him enough. It tells him that no, Colin is gone, and for what? Because he couldn’t convince him that he was too important to this life to stay? Because Stefan swallowed a scream that should have been free to the night sky? Because he was too enraptured by the lights dancing across Colin’s face?

Kitty’s scream is followed by the muffled cries of Pearl, and it hits him then, what he’s really done. He’s robbed the world of Colin Ritman. He’s left a baby girl- Daddy’s little legacy, no less- fatherless. He’s left Kitty- well, he’s done just that. He’s the reason Colin’s left her. And Stefan has never felt so goddamn guilty in all his life. Not when his mother died, not when he yelled at his father, not when he turned down the offer to work at Tuckersoft. Not when he flushes one of his pills in the morning because he doesn’t feel like taking both of them, or when he pours his tea down the sink because he suspects his father has done something (it’s too bitter to be the color it is anyway). No, this- this leaves a whole in Stefan’s chest that’s nearly tangible as he struggles to breath.

His apology is breathless; he’s not sure Kitty’s even heard him as he stumbles past her into the room. He manages to lift his eyes from the floor at the sound of the growl. His shout is caught in his throat as Pax moves at him in near slow motion. Stefan closes his eyes, entirely willing to submit to being ripped apart by the Thief of Destiny. He’d taken on that role himself when he stammered out a single ‘you’ on the balcony. How had he been any better than Pax when he made Colin think he wanted him to fall to his death? He hadn’t been. He deserved the pain he was going to get.

It didn’t come.

Stefan nearly swore. It was taking forever, and the music in the room kept getting louder and louder, but-

This wasn’t Colin’s music. No, this was… no, it couldn’t have been-

_We’re only making plans for Nigel._

No. No, no, no. Colin was gone, he was dead, Stefan couldn’t be-

_We only want what’s best for him._

There was no way he could be in his father’s dinky car pulling up outside of Dr. Hayes’ office. 

Stefan jumped to consciousness, feeling it hit him and wincing as he remembered Colin’s blood blooming like a torn rose.

_We’re only making plans for Nigel._

His father- god, he smelled like cigarettes and alcohol and it was only noon and it wasn’t pleasant like Colin at all, why did he ever think his father cared if he brought him here, to where he made the biggest mistake of his life? 

_Nigel just needs that helping hand._

And Colin. Colin, was he still alive? Was it just a nasty dream? No way could his stress really show him that awful image. 

_And if young Nigel says he’s happy, he must be happy._

Even as his father turned the car off, each word burned into his ears the way Colin’s hands still burned on his cheeks. Hands that by now would be so cold they would freeze Stefan’s skin into crystals to be broken off.

_He must be happy._

Each step into the office hurt him. Each word Dr. Haynes said scorched him to his core. Each movement of his body brought back the pounding in his ears that came with the high of the drugs and the cracking of Colin’s life. Colin was all too gone, the rose of breath on his nose bright in the eye of Stefan’s mind but not in the world. He never got around to telling the doctor about his not being in control. He hadn’t heard a thing she’d said. He felt so… not grounded. Maybe, he thought, he was somehow still high from a night he wasn’t even sure existed. But the drugs hadn’t hurt this bad.

The doctor had upped his dosage. She said they’d help his mind. But what good were drugs when they were the whole reason Colin’s face was burned into his heart?

_He must be happy in his world._


	2. Don't You Want Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefan's head swirls with too many thoughts for him to count, but each one revolves around Colin. He's almost begun to think he loves him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god DAMN I love 80s music I really am gay

 

Stefan didn’t understand why he felt such a strong sense of “I’ve been here before.” Surely he had never been in Colin Ritman’s apartment before. But here he was, entirely comfortable as he sat across from Colin.

Colin’s just offered him a tab of acid. As he stares into the face of the lion on the tab, every cell in Stefan’s body screams at him. It’s an unnamed anxiety. He’s not sure what his body wants him to do.

“It’s your choice,” Colin says. Something tells Stefan it isn’t. Maybe it’s the peer pressure, maybe it’s the unfiltered urge to please Colin in any way possible.

He says yes, can’t help but watch Colin take it like he’s done it hundreds of times. He probably has; Stefan absently wonders if he could ask him to give it to him. But no, he faintly tastes his own finger around the small square settling on the back of his tongue. He tastes like the paper Colin’s rolled his joint with. Dimly, he wonders if it’s really such a good idea for his first experience with drugs to be both acid and weed on the couch of someone he barely knows. He brushes the thought away- Colin wouldn’t hurt him, wouldn’t leave him alone while he’s high for the first time.

The whole situation feels far away and yet familiar all at once. Colin laughs across from him, a snort and a breath and a sigh all at once. The sound he makes moments later as he relaxes into the high makes Stefan shift in his seat, but he pushes the uncomfortable thought away. He’s not interested in those sorts of thoughts, at least not about boys, and certainly not about The Colin Ritman, who has a wife and a daughter and who is only a few feet- inches now- from his face.

Colin’s breath is smoky on Stefan’s face as he presses the remnants of the joint between his lips.

“Go on,” he coaxes, voice all rough velvet and splitting chocolate, and God does Stefan know how much trouble he’d be in if his dad knew what he was doing here, how much the bruises would hurt if he knew what sorts of things Stefan thinks when Colin’s eyes flick down to his lips before brushing over his chest. He shivers under the gaze. “Take it. You’ll get the hang of it.” Stefan only coughs again, turning his head as his mind- not him, he would never, how could he?- twists those words to a different scene, in a life where Stefan can and he’s wrapping his mouth around something else entirely.

Colin lays his head in Stefan’s lap, and Stefan has to turn his attention to the colors spiraling on the walls, all different shades of red that drip and that, if he didn’t know better, would make Stefan think the walls were bleeding. His hands feel sticky, and he moves Colin’s head from his lap to pace as he listens to the conspiracy falling from Colin’s mouth like ash. His hands are on the walls before he really thinks about the movement. The flowers in the painting he’s messing with swirl under his fingertips until they sound almost as beautiful as Colin does. Colin…

Colin is still on about whatever it is, and oh, was that a question? Stefan isn’t sure. He finds himself nodding anyway. He ends up back on that couch, that couch that smells like weed and smoke and a bit like booze and almost like sex and most certainly of Colin and he’s watching yellow shocks of light slink across his fingers. Colin is upside down on the couch and giving him this look that makes Stefan’s heart ache in a way he can’t quite describe. He swings his legs around, nearly falling with the length of them, but he catches himself, too graceful to fall off of his own couch. He’s too close, all waving hands and foggy words, and then all at once he’s a million miles away with a voice clearer than a night sky in the country.

“It’s a fucking nightmare world, Stefan. And the worst part is…” Stefan feels time stretch out in the moments between this breath and Colin’s next. He’s so close to Stefan again, he feels like he’s drowning in the scent of cigarettes, but unlike with his father, Colin somehow is wonderful when he smells like smoke. Stefan could breathe him in forever, get lost and drown in him. He feels he could stay with Colin forever.

“We’re living in it.” Colin whisks away again, clothes rustling loud in Stefan’s ears, pulling him back and letting him settle into the shame burning low in his stomach. He sits with it, lets it fester until he decides to ignore it.

He’s not sure how he reaches the window. He isn’t sure how Colin’s hands end up on his face, but his hands are warm and the shame in his body curls into a hot ache behind his ribs. He isn’t sure what Colin asks, but he thinks it’s something he needs to agree to, so he nods. Anything to keep Colin’s hands on his face because he’s so warm and his face is so close, and oh God the ache in his chest… Does he make it better or worse? It turns from an ache into a longing that Stefan would never voice, because Colin has Kitty and Pearl, and Stefan- well, he’s not sure what he has, but he’s not willing to throw himself away all because he’s made the mistake of a fool. Colin’s hands are so warm…

And so are his lips, Stefan finds. How did they end up against his? He isn’t sure, but suddenly the longing in his chest is gone, melting under Colin’s fingertips and dissolving on their tongues right next to the taste of Colin’s drugs and his coffee. It’s so… Colin. It’s so Colin it hurts, and suddenly he realizes that the hurt has nothing to do with wanting Colin and everything to do with the way he knows it’ll hurt when his father hinds out. And how it’ll feel to be homeless when Tuckersoft fires him. And that panic blossoms into a twisting, nasty thing that fills him fear of other things, things like the cold of hospital rooms and doubled medication. And so he pushes Colin away.

When they step out onto the balcony, guilt overrides Stefan. He can’t stand it, the hurting in his head while Colin licks his lips and asks “Who’s it gonna be?” as though there’s nothing at all wrong with the fact that Stefan is now all too aware of the taste of Colin’s mouth or the fact that even one kiss (or was it several, Stefan isn’t sure) has him aching in his pants as his body screams for more but his mind silences him.

So he picks. He picks, and this time, there is no choked sob when he answers, because this time, he doesn’t pick Colin.

Stefan picks himself, and it is only for a second before he pushes off the balcony that he thinks, _This time?_ But he makes the mistake of looking at Colin, but he only looks because Colin makes a noise, hardly noticeable in the back of his throat but Stefan hears it, he hears it and he looks back to find Colin looking at him in a way that tells him that he knows Stefan isn’t choosing himself because he believes Colin, but because he thinks it doesn’t really matter whether or not he survives this because maybe he doesn’t deserve to. He feels it in that look, feels Colin tell him that he does deserve to live, and he will, because why does this timeline even matter if Colin can’t kiss him?

“I’ll see you in the next one.” Colin keeps that sad look in his eyes out of his voice. Stefan wonders if he’s picked the wrong choice, but he doesn’t get much time to think about it before his blood spreads around him on the ground.

Stefan’s eyes snap open to the sound of his dad’s car turning off. He immediately feels guilty. He dreamt of kissing Colin, in the car right next to his dad on the way to his therapist’s office. Therapist? He was meant to be going to lunch…

And yet there they were. At the office. God, his dad had the worst timing. 

Dr. Haynes had never let him stay quiet for long. She’d asked him what was wrong almost immediately, though he supposed it was mostly because that was her job.

“I- I’ve been having… thoughts…” With that sentence alone, he’d grabbed her attention. She leaned forward, eyes focused on him as though he were the only thing in the room. He briefly wonders if he looks like that around Colin. Embarrassingly, he probably does. 

“What sorts of thoughts, Stefan? About yourself? Your mother, perhaps?” Stefan shakes his head and reaches up to bite at a nail. He’s sure there’s no way to tell her. She’d have to tell his dad, or a doctor, or something. He’s not sure he could get the weight off his chest no matter what she asked or what he thought. It’s too much pressure, choking him as he tries his best to tell her. He can feel the tears burning at the back of his eyes as he coughs on it, tries to spit it out, but he can’t and it’s too much and how could he ever-

“Thoughts about having feelings for Colin.” It’s out, so much faster than he expected. And it’s so good to have someone else hear him and know, but it’s so much scarier than he thought and his anxieties resurface in the way the doctor leans back in her seat away from Stefan as though distancing herself from him like it’s something she can catch. Maybe it is. Who knows, not Stefan, that’s for sure.

“Feelings,” she repeats, slowly, as though he has no concept on the definition of the word. He nods, suddenly fascinated by the floor. “What sorts of feelings?” Stefan’s breath is a gasp when he tries to laugh at her. What sort of feelings? As though it’s any kind of question at all how Colin makes him feel.

“Oh, God…” He tries to think of how to tell her, and he can’t not with her looking at him like that while she clicks her pen just a little too loudly. So he closes his eyes and remembers all the way Colin has made him feel, from the way his chest fluttered when Colin raked over him when they met at Tuckersoft or how he felt the urge to collapse against the man in thanks when he’d stood up for his decision to work from home, and he thinks of the way he felt when Colin kissed him or how he felt with Colin’s head on his lap or how he feels when Colin is… when Colin _is._ “He- I- He makes me so… so happy. I feel like I’m floating, like I’m finally free from someone who’s been keeping me back. I- I don’t ever want him to leave.”

He’s an idiot, he thinks, as he watches so many emotions pass over Dr. Haynes’ face. How could he ever hope for her to understand how Colin makes him feel? He barely understands it himself, but when has anything ever been simple for him?

“He makes you happy?” The doctor’s voice is soft, too soft. It doesn’t calm him at all. Stefan nods only slightly. He knows the consequences if she doesn’t keep this between the two of them. “Stefan… I-“ She sighs then, and he knows that if she wore glasses she’d have taken them off, but she doesn’t, so she can’t, but she instead rubs her eyes in a way he’s never seen her do. “Are you a homosexual?”

There it is. The question. One that Stefan, surprisingly, hadn’t even considered. He’d kissed Colin, he’d thought about wrapping his mouth around Colin’s cock in the hopes he could make the wrinkles on his forehead disappear for just a second. He’d wanted to hold Colin’s hand and tell him he was too beautiful to give up life. But being a homosexual? Stefan somehow hadn’t even entertained the thought. He wasn’t sissy, or he tried not to be. Maybe five years old _was_ too old to be sleeping with dolls. He wanted to kick himself for ever doing it.

“I- I don’t…”

“Stefan.” His mind was getting foggy. He didn’t want to hear whatever she had to say, he wanted to see Colin. He wanted to know why his life was beginning to feel a lot like it had nothing more to it than waking up in his dad’s car again and again only to switch between colored nights with Colin and drab offices with the doctor. He needed to know what was wrong with him, for him to think about Colin like that. He was so wrapped up in his own head he’d never stopped to consider what it meant that Colin was the one who kissed him first, so bold and sturdy and everything Stefan could only hope and dream of being. He’d never once considered how he really felt or what that meant for either of them.

“Stefan,” she repeated. His head felt a hundred miles away. “Are you in love with Colin?” Now that- that question was even more loaded. It hurt worse to think about it, really. Was he? Was he really just a homosexual in love with a programmer who got his ideas after smoking pot or tripping acid for an entire night? Was he really that sort of person?

He’d always been quiet, not too against the crowd or out of the ordinary. He woke up, went to school, passed, graduated. He lived with his dad, he took medication to keep himself clear enough to function. He liked women, he only ever touched himself to the though of women. Although, if he were honest with himself, he can’t quite remember the last time he did that, either. He knows where his fingers wander when he masturbates, he knows what he thinks of- _who_ he thinks of. He knows he could care less about kissing the woman on the magazine cover, he’s never once imagined himself inside of a woman.

“I-I don’t know.” And he’s right. It isn’t a lie. He’s nineteen years old, his name is Stefan Butler, and he doesn’t know if he’s in love with Colin or just lonely. And he thinks that’s fine, that that should be an acceptable answer to the doctor’s question, but he knows she wouldn’t agree with him. So he steels himself, ready for what is sure to be painful in the end, and he answers.

“I don’t know, but… I want him to be in love with me.” 

And Stefan knows in the bottom of his heart where the admission lies, shrouded in guilt, that it’s true. He wants Colin Ritman to be so taken by him that he wants him over every night. He wants Colin to ask him over for the night while they’re in the middle of the office. He wants Colin to linger too long near him at work or on the train. He wants Colin to ask him out for dinner and let his feet spread out a little too close to Stefan’s, because he knows Colin isn’t so careless as to love him so publicly. But he wants Colin to want him so badly that it keeps them both up at night, and that’s the only truth he has. 

But of course, something happens, as is always in his life for him, and this time, it’s that his therapist can’t keep her mouth shut. Or maybe he’s just so open that his dad can tell how much he wants Colin. Either way, the air is thick the moment he gets in the car, and not in the way it was thick when he was high in Colin’s room with their lips pressed together like they were the only thing that matters.

Stefan never planned on taking his medication when he got home. It would only make him dizzy, and he remembers Colin’s words- they’re drugging him. So he plans to flush his daily dose and go to bed, too exhausted for anything else bad to happen, not even willing to work on Bandersnatch for any longer than he already had that day. 

The door slams and locks and Stefan jumps as his dad’s belt slides free of his pants. He’s not done anything wrong, or that’s what he wants to tell his dad, but he can’t find the words and he knows it’s because he doesn’t believe them. His life is the crime, his very existence a sin to be around.

He craves Colin the way Colin seems to crave cigarettes or his father craves alcohol on a Saturday afternoon. That’s wrongdoing enough, and somehow his father knows. His punishment is yet to really be decided and he knows it. A beating is in no way half as bad as so many things his dad could do.

His shirt is gone, and his dad is mumbling an apology, but he knows it isn’t sincere, not for him. More likely, for God, for the violence of beating his own son, but surely, his feelings for Colin were the worse sin.

Each time his dad’s belt connects with his skin, he knows it will scar, and some part of him- a sick, twisted part that Stefan wants to kill- hopes they do so that he can go to Colin and show him all his scars and then maybe Colin will kiss each one and take him far away from home, somewhere where they can just breathe and where Stefan doesn’t feel so sick for wanting to kiss Colin again.

And when he wakes up in the morning, that’s exactly what he does. He goes to Colin’s apartment and when Colin answers he’s freshly showered and half naked and he still tastes like cigarettes and coffee but also of mint and suddenly Stefan can’t remember what he came for. But when his shirt is off and Colin runs keyboard-tough fingers over the still fresh and untreated wounds on his back, it rushes back to him in way that slices through him.

He’s not sure, but he thinks he ends up in one of Colin’s shirts. It’s certainly not his. He knows he never took his pants off, the guilt running in his blood was too strong, but Colin leads him out and down familiar roads. It’s his house, and there’s his dad, drinking already and getting the belt but it’s too late because Stefan has the ashtray and he’s tired of waiting for the things he’d like to have and suddenly his father is dead and crumbled on the floor. His blood is everywhere, and it’s somehow on his face, but Colin wipes it and tells him it's okay and that sometimes, this happens. Stefan gains a body count and all too often that count includes Colin. But not this time, because Colin kisses him in spite of the blood.

It finds its way into Stefan’s mouth and the blood burns his throat as he sinks to his knees. The floor is soaked, far too wet to be one man’s blood, but that’s not what he focuses on. Colin is in his throat in a second, swallowed farther than Stefan is confident about, but he’s just killed his own father and the adrenaline coursing through his veins doesn’t care that it isn’t lube, that it’s blood, because Colin Ritman is right above him, hand gripping Stefan’s hair and gasping his name as he cums down his throat.

Colin takes his time tucking himself back away and he doesn’t give a second thought to the body slumped in the corner. Stefan can’t take his eyes off of it.

Somehow, he finds himself back on the balcony with Colin. It’s still bright out, and the sun hurts his eyes, but Colin is holding his hand. This time, there is no question. No one has to pick who jumps, because they fall together, and the last thing Stefan hears is the wind, and if he’d only been listening closer, he’d have heard Colin’s ‘I love you’ just over it.

 

_Relax, don’t do it, when you wanna go to it, relax…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof


	3. Halo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colin really is the most beautiful person he's ever met, and Stefan is starting think he shouldn't have to give a damn what anyone else thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bitch??????? im love colin??????

“Fuck off, Dad!”

There it was. And there was the anger in his father’s eyes, hardly contained in a way that made Stefan shrink back as his skin stung and apologies fell from his lips. “Sorry, I’m just- I’m stressed, about the game, about-“ Stefan falters when Colin’s name threatens to make its way into the conversation. His dad takes the opportunity to interrupt him.

“Get your coat. We’re going to lunch, and we’re taking the car.” 

Stefan found himself fighting the urge to fall asleep in the car. Usually, he didn’t care, but something didn’t quite feel right. The second they passed the pub, he felt the worst sense of dread come over him.

“You said-“

“I know what I said.” His father’s voice was like glass in the tinny space of the car. “You need to see Dr. Haynes, whether you want to or not. You need to talk to her; I’ll not be putting up with any more of your yelling or your moaning at night, understand?” Stefan winced. The fact that his father had made him this appointment for his disobedience would be one thing, but the fact that he’d also made it after hearing Stefan at night, during dreams he could hardly remember but always left him sweaty and breathless in the morning with nothing but the taste of weed and hand-rolled cigarettes on the back of his tongue was an entirely mortifying thing that he’d never once in his life wanted to experience. 

The air in the car grew increasingly colder as he refused to get out while his dad practically begged him to get out of it. No way was he going to go into that drab little office and listen while some drab little woman tells him he’s a sissy and then ups his medication. No, he’d rather stay in the car and risk his dad’s yelling when they eventually went home after this little outing proved fruitless. It pissed him off that they were here in the first place, and why on earth should it ever matter if sometimes he lost his temper with his own father and- well, no, it did sort of matter that he was spending more than one night a week itching for the smell of roll-ups and the warmth of Colin’s flat, but it was none of his dad’s business; he’d handle it himself like he’d always done anything, oh but then what would he do because the whole thing felt rather hopeless and-

“Stefan, mate, you definitely need some help.” He whipped his head around so fast and when he saw Colin he wasn’t entirely convinced that he hadn’t fallen asleep by mistake. He was so tall he’d needed to bend down to look inside the car at Stefan, half-smoked cigarette practically dripping from his lips while it rained ashes on his dad’s seat. “Coming then? Don’t imagine you want to be in your psychiatric’s. Not after that last timeline, hm?” 

Stefan is confused and yet he understands all at once as he pulls himself from the car. Colin doesn’t shut the door, leaves it open as he comes around to take Stefan by the waist. He’s all confidence and nonchalance, and he seems proud in the way Stefan’s dad fumes at the sight of another man’s hand on his son’s hip. He wants to care, but he can’t bring himself to, not when Colin smells more of his cologne than his cigarettes, like he’d showered fresh for the sole occasion of whisking Stefan away from his father and Dr. Haynes and everybody who’s ever made him feel sissy for liking the things he does. He finds himself pressing closer into Colin’s side. He notices the thumb brushing under his shirt and over the scars on his lower back as he’s lead away like a puppy, ever so willing to follow its master anywhere. Stefan’s red at the thought of calling Colin his master, and as though he hears him, Colin chuckles above him, a low sound catching in the back of his throat and quiet in a way that means it’s only for Stefan.

He doesn’t get an introduction to the woman in the kitchen, but somehow Stefan manages to greet her by name, a mumbled “Hello, Kitty,” as he stumbles past her, being led to Colin’s bedroom this time. His bed is huge, and there’s no balcony here, nor is there any sign of Kitty, and if Stefan had any doubts about what he really came here for, they’re dissolved at the sight of Colin’s slightly messy room, just neat enough to be functional and it all screams of Colin and it’s nearly too much and Stefan faintly wonders if he’s already accepted the drugs tonight.

He hadn’t but he ends up doing so much sooner than he’d thought. He isn’t offered the LSD this time, though he’s sure he’s never taken it in the first place so he’s not sure why it feels so odd not to have it here. But no, he’s offered only weed for now, and he only faintly wonders who taught Colin how to roll all his blunts and cigarettes before the thought is gone, overtaken by how close Colin is and the fact that they’re lying on his monstrous bed. It only looks big, Stefan thinks, because with Colin so close surely the bed is tiny in reality, and when he mentions this Colin laughs, he really laughs. 

“Maybe,” he says, and his voice is low enough to make Stefan shiver and burn all at once at all the things he wants that voice to say to him, “I just enjoy being close to you.” 

Stefan feels hot when Colin kisses him. He tries to ignore it, but then Colin’s lifted his shirt up over him and he feels cooler, but still so warm and yet he presses closer to Colin anyway, ignoring the hard press of him against his thigh for now. He’s sure Colin won’t rush him, won’t ask for anything Stefan isn’t ready to give, but he’s not entirely sure he wants the choice for his own in the very good chance that he makes the wrong one. His whole body scorches at the thought and he finds himself pushing at Colin’s chest before he has the chance to stop himself doing it. 

“Something the matter?” Colin’s voice is casual as ever, and Stefan is worried that he’ll open his eyes any moment to find himself having drifted off at his desk at Tuckersoft, with Colin asking if he needs any help with his programming. But no, he’s still there in front of him, although, when he got shirtless Stefan isn’t sure and he’d question how it happened but Colin’s shirt is still balled in one of his fists. He shakes his head, and there’s that puppy-dog obedience rearing its disgusting little head as he hopes he hasn’t displeased or upset Colin by pushing him away. So, much like when he refused Mr. Thakur’s offer, he scrambles to explain himself.

“No, I just- uh, I haven’t exactly done this- um, before. With anyone.” He’s nervous, even as Colin’s hands move in lazy strokes up and down his sides. He’s embarrassed himself, he’s ruined the mood, he thinks, because surely even if Colin wanted to f- wanted to have sex with him, do anything else with him, he wouldn’t want to know that Stefan is a virgin, because he’s nineteen and shouldn’t he have lost his virginity by then to some pretty girl or hiding that he’d lost it with some guy that probably drinks too much in some shed or a closet somewhere? He’s ashamed and he’d like to get up but Colin’s still touching him and he’s not sure his legs could hold him and he doesn’t want to have to hide his erection because that would surely be worse. 

“Why should that matter? You would have eventually, least you’re with someone who knows what he’s doing.” Colin shrugs his doubts and shame off like it’s something he was born to do, and the heat in Stefan’s cheeks dies a little. Colin, obviously, was not a virgin, and even though Stefan had never thought he was, the admission is still almost scandalous to him, especially with the implication that this isn’t the first time he’s done it with guys.

“I don’t- I don’t have a, um…” He’s not sure how to make it clear, just in case Colin’s only ever done it with girls and for some reason thinks that doing Stefan will be much the same. At least, he’s pretty sure it won’t be. His father had only ever given him one talk, and the talk had been on his first day of school  when he was sixteen and it had been mostly one sentence and the sentence had been “Get a girlfriend but don’t get her pregnant.” At least he knew that he couldn’t get pregnant, but that was because of what they’d taught him in school.

“A vagina? I’m aware, Stefan.” Oh, and on anyone else that would have been so condescending that he would have died in shame, but Colin’s voice is patient, like he knows that Stefan knows nothing but he’s willing to teach him. It burns his face a bright red, but he nods. If Colin’s the one teaching him, he thinks, he’d be willing to learn anything. 

Colin is slow with him, taking Stefan’s pants off before his own like his own pleasure doesn’t matter in this singular moment. He peppers kisses down his stomach and his inner thighs, but he doesn’t take Stefan into his mouth, instead taking his time to bite and suck deep bruises into Stefan’s skin that will last for weeks. He twitches under Colin’s hands and after that he can’t stand to watch it, he’s so embarrassed, so he covers his face with one of Colin’s pillows instead. It only half smells like cigarettes and mostly smells like Colin’s shampoo. Something is taken from one of the bedside drawers, but Stefan doesn’t get that chance to see what it is before he hears the pop of a cap opening and closing. Colin’s voice is a million miles away and in his skin all at once when he speaks.

“Might be a bit cold. Sorry, in a bit of a rush.” He’s got no idea what might be cold or even what Colin is in a rush for, not until the feeling of cold lubricant hits him only seconds before Colin presses a finger into him. He wasn’t expecting it, and maybe it was for the best, but it is cold and Stefan clenches down around Colin’s finger almost instantly. The sound that escapes him is pitiful.

“What are you- I’ve not- it’s dirty to-“ Colin cuts him off in one quick curl of his finger. It’s odd, he’d never even thought about how it would really feel to have something inside of him. It’s certainly a breach, and it stings a little, but the reality is that he wants more of it. Colin bends to press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, leaving little marks that would fade fast but would still need covering up for a day or two. 

 

“Not like I was expecting it not to be. Besides, got to do this bit or it’d really sting. Can’t have that,” Colin tells him, though to Stefan it feels more like Colin is sewing the words into his skin as he speaks and he nods. He finds himself pressing back against Colin’s hand and he almost regrets it when he feels the second finger.

Almost.

It takes forever and another finger before Colin decides he’s ready enough. Stefan’s a mess, panting through the tears pressing at his eyes even though he knows it’s not even close to over and he could swear that if Colin really and truly takes him like he’s been promising this whole time he’ll cum before Colin ever even gets the chance to do anything. The cap is loud in the room right next to Stefan’s short breaths, and then Colin is coaxing him to relax and at first it doesn’t seem so bad, the same pressure in his ass that there was before, and he wonders why Colin thought he needed to be fingered so much, but then comes the rest of him and by the time he’s fully in him, Stefan is shaking and the tears in his eyes are dripping down his cheeks.

“Hurts…” He manages, because when could he ever say anything good to Colin. He’s been flipped to his knees because Colin said it would be easier this way, and he presses a kiss to Stefan’s back.

“Gets better. Trust me.” Stefan nods at Colin’s reassurance and instead of focusing on how much it hurts, he focuses on the scent of Colin’s shampoo and tries to relax. He gives a second, shakier nod when he thinks he’s ready, and even though Colin starts out slow, it still hurts a little and yet it isn’t enough for him all at the same time. So he begs for more, on his hands and knees like a slut and part of him is so ashamed and the rest of him wants that part to shut up so he can beg Colin for more, and that’s exactly what he does. Colin gladly gives him more, and Stefan is overflowing with joy to know that Colin isn’t silent in bed. He’s anything but, whispering a lewd mixture of praise and insults in Stefan’s ear, a mix of “Such a slut” and “You’re being such a good boy” that has Stefan’s back arching and his moans catching in his throat. He wants to be louder for Colin, wants Colin to know just how much he loves this, with his face pressed into the pillows while Colin holds his hips with bruising intensity, but he doesn’t want to drown out Colin’s own moans and pants that he’s sure others have heard but he also knows that these ones are all for him.

Colin loses his rhythm eventually, his hips stuttering in their movements as his words turn more into low, breathy moans of Stefan’s name. It proves to be too much for him when Colin moans a soft “I love you,” in his ear, and even though he doubts that it’s for him, it overwhelms him anyway and his vision whites out, and it stays that way until he blinks a few times and finds both his back and the sheets under him to be entirely sticky. He’s embarrassed immediately but is soothed to silence by Colin’s hand rubbing his cum into Stefan’s skin before it’s gone and replaced with a warm cloth, wiping him clean and picking him up to carry him to the couch in the room with the balcony. He’s not sure when Colin got dressed or when his underwear had been put back on him, but he’s grateful for it when they pass an extremely red-faced Kitty on her way out. 

Colin sits him on the couch, almost smiling at Stefan’s wince. And then he’s opening that little box and Stefan wonders what happens if he says no, so he does. Colin gives him an interested look before passing him his tea. He doesn’t miss the hand dropping the tab into the cup, but just this once he’ll pretend that he does. Colin knows he doesn’t really want the option of saying no, and he ignores the knowing look in Colin’s eyes when he drinks the whole thing in one go.

Stefan loves the swirls across his fingers, every color of the rainbow dancing across his hands as he melts back into the couch. Colin is saying something, and it almost sounds like a conspiracy but there’s way too much of Stefan’s name for it to be some rant about the government monitoring people or about how PAC-Man is a horror. He can’t focus on Colin’s voice, though, too captured by the lights slowly changing colors behind him, giving him a glow of all different hues as he speaks. Every time he says Stefan’s name, the color is blue, and he wonders if that means that this timeline doesn’t end very well for either of them, or if it’s a happy blue. He can’t decide, but the color turns green this time when Colin says “I love you, Stefan,” so maybe the colors don’t mean anything and it isn’t part of life’s code or programming and it really is all some silly coincidence.

Colin keeps checking the time, and for what Stefan has no idea. But this time, when he checks it, a sad sort of smile comes over his face. He helps Stefan stand, and he’s not sure if it’s the drugs or if it’s really okay, but the ache in his hips isn’t so bad anymore and he easily follows Colin out onto the balcony. The cold air does wonders for his sobriety and suddenly he’s scared and the ache is back. He grabs the railing to keep from falling and this time Colin’s face doesn’t change but his eyes still have that almost-sad look in them that make Stefan want to cry.

“Sorry, Stefan. Don’t quite get it yet, but you will.” Colin kisses him then, soft and slow and full of a longing that Stefan doesn’t understand. Colin’s warmth is gone all too soon as he swings his legs up and over the balcony’s edge. “See you in the next one, Stefan.” And then there’s that sad sort of smile and the light inside changes to blue and Stefan wonders why he ever liked blue to begin with because it’s the last color he sees before Colin is gone, and this time it isn’t Kitty’s scream that shakes him into reality, it’s his own as he reaches for Colin, but he’s gone, lifeless below him and goddammit Stefan is sure he still has that same smile but this time he’s taken his virginity with him and his heart feels entirely shattered.

When he wakes up outside Dr. Haynes office, he’s still reaching out and the tears pouring down his face are hot. The ache in his hips is gone, but so is Colin, and he’d trade any pain just to have Colin alive and well.

The doctor is as bland as ever while she tries in vain to get Stefan to speak, and when he finally does, the tears are back but the weight on his chest is gone.

“I’m in love with him. With Colin, I mean.” Dr. Haynes tries to interrupt him, but he’s on his feet now because he knows Colin wants him to be confident. Colin wouldn’t care what anyone else thought, he wouldn’t care if someone told him he was sissy or disgusting because he was so very Colin and he held himself without a care in the world. “No, let me- let me finish. I’m in love with him, and we had sex, and it was so much better than anything else in this world- you couldn’t imagine- and it was that way because I love him, and I don’t care if that makes me a sissy or a homosexual or whatever because he jumped and he’s dead and I didn’t stop him so it doesn’t really-“ Stefan choked on his sob as he sank back into his seat. “It doesn’t really matter what I say about him.” The doctor looked as though she didn’t know how to answer him, and Stefan supposed that was fair, it isn’t every day someone waltzes in and announces he’s had sex with a man and then breaks down over it. So he leaves, spares her having to make a choice. He leaves and he goes to Colin’s apartment. He’s seen Colin’s death in so many dreams and his own in a few others, so maybe Colin’s right.

Stefan steps out onto the balcony, and the wind isn’t as harsh as it was at night on his burning, high skin, but he can still picture Colin’s sad smile and the blue on his glasses before everything about him was red, so he swings himself over without a second thought.

 

_Relax, don’t do it, when you wanna go to it, relax…_

 

Same shit in a different timeline, but this time, he wouldn’t be letting Colin go anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoops sorry

**Author's Note:**

> So if any of you guys have read any of my other works (You Can't Gamble For Love, Twenty One Todoroki) I'm really sorry for the lack of updates, I'm having selective writers block, but I promise I will try to have those next chapters out to you as soon as possible


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